by Zana Bell
He laughed. “How?”
“I don’t know. Start a fire or something. I don’t care how you do it. Please, Adam.”
He couldn’t resist her entreaty. “Sure. I’m right here. I’ve got your back. Go get him!”
He propped a shoulder against the wall, watching as Des went over to Brian, touched his hand and gestured to the deck outside. Bemused, Brian followed.
“What are you doing?” Cressa slipped an arm around Adam’s waist. “Are you checking out my little sister?”
He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. “I’m here as moral support.”
Cressa was intrigued. “What’s she up to?”
The deck was lit only by the light from inside the living room. Des shimmered in the darkness, but Brian, dressed in a black suit, was only silhouetted. However, his face happened to fall in a shaft of light, making him look strangely defenseless.
“I hope you won’t mind. Watch. I’m pretty sure she’s going to get what she wants,” Adam murmured.
Des was talking to Brian. He laughed. She took him by his arm, speaking more intently.
“Des usually does. What does she— Oh, you are kidding me.” Cressa was incredulous. “She wants Brian?”
“That’s right. She’s been in love with him for years.”
Cressa gazed at him. “Oh, we all knew about her puppy love when she was thirteen, but surely she’s over it by now.”
“She stopped being a puppy a while back and her feelings became something quite different.”
Brian had stopped laughing and stepped back, as wary as if Des had a bomb strapped to her.
“Are you serious?” Cressa asked in disbelief. “Is this serious?”
“Yes, it really is. Do you mind?”
“No! I’d be thrilled. I would love someone to have Brian’s heart, and he and Des have always had a really close relationship.”
Des stepped up to Brian and stretched to kiss him on the lips. Brian reared back. As if calming a spooked horse, she put her hand on his cheek, helpfully guiding his face down to hers. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck. Brian’s back was to them, but they saw her small thumbs-up, then the flick of her hand to shoo them away.
Adam laughed. “It looks like she can take it from here.” He turned so Cressa was in the circle of his arms.
“But how did you know?” she asked. “I can’t believe it’s been under our noses all this time and none of us saw it. Not even Juliet, and she prides herself on knowing everything.”
“It’s sometimes easier for an outsider to see these things.”
Cressa laughed. “If you’ve just played Cupid for Des and Brian, you’ll never qualify as an outsider in the Curtis family ever again. Ma will be delighted to make Brian an official member of the family.”
Adam cupped Cressa’s neck, stroking the fine skin behind her ear. “They’re a long way from that. Brian’s got a lot of reversing to do first, but hey, at least he’s realizing he needs to change track.”
Cressa shook her head. “For the son of an English teacher, that’s one convoluted metaphor. But—” she glanced back toward the deck “—you did something good tonight, Texas.”
Adam’s thoughts, however, had shifted to more pressing concerns. Des had upheld her end of their deal. Now he had to pick the right time to follow through with his.
LATER, IN BED, Cressa snuggled into Adam’s body, exhausted after glorious but don’t-let-the-parents-hear giggly sex.
“All in all, a very good night for everyone. You survived my family well.”
She heard the smile in his voice. “I didn’t survive them. I love them. They’re great people. A roomful of women with incredible noses.”
She jabbed him in the stomach. Wow, he had amazing muscles. “No quips about the nose, got it?”
“I love the nose,” he protested, running a finger down it. “It saves you all from being merely pretty.”
She snorted. “And moves us into pretty awful.”
He pressed his finger to her lips. “Stop fishing. You are all beautiful in your very different ways.”
“Nah, Des is the only one who’s really lovely.”
“She’s a stunner, but I’ve never been into blondes. Growing up as the dark kid in a blond family puts you off.”
His other hand moved to stroke Cressa’s hair, from the crown of her head down to the curve of her hip. She could feel the warm strength of his hand and nestled in even closer. If she could, she’d dissolve into his skin, she wanted him so much.
“I saw Katherine and Juliet interrogate you, but you seemed to win them around.”
“Yeah, we had a good chat.”
“What did you talk about?”
He shrugged. “Lots. How difficult Juliet finds having Mike work so hard. Whether they should start having kids. The biological clock versus career. Katherine, of course, is still pretty cut up over her ex.”
“They’re right.” Cressa pressed her palm on his chest and shoved herself upright to peer at his face. The glow from the alarm clock gave her enough light to see his quizzical expression.
“Right about what?”
“The key to your charm.”
“My charm?”
She just loved the way that word rolled warm and sweet and long from his lips. She loved even more his bewilderment. “You listen. You get people to talk about themselves and you actually pay attention.”
“What’s the big deal? People are interesting.”
Was this love? Surely not. Juliet was wrong, but how else to define this overwhelming mushiness Cressa felt for Adam right at this moment? She leaned down and dropped a kiss on his nipple. She loved hearing his quick intake of air, too. “Most people like to talk about themselves. You honestly prefer talking about other people.”
“But I know me, so that’s boring.” His tone was very reasonable.
She kissed his other nipple. “You have no idea how different that makes you. You get it from Alicia. When she talks to people, they have her complete, undivided attention. It’s incredibly flattering and self-affirming.”
“Your mom listens to you.”
Cressa laughed. “Believe me, in a family of five girls and one actor, no one gets undivided attention. We constantly vie for it. That’s why Katherine and Juliet play the perfect daughters and Des is such a drama queen. Portia escapes it all by slipping away under everyone’s radar.”
Adam shifted his head on the pillow to view Cressa more squarely. “And you?”
“What about me?”
“Don’t be obtuse. Come on, confess.”
“What?” Mystified, she propped her chin on his chest to look at him. He squinted down his nose. “You get it by indulging in unsuitable, short-term relationships, which culminated tonight in you bringing home your mother’s worst nightmare.”
“That’s so wrong. It’s not like that at all!”
“No?”
He clearly didn’t believe her, but because they were only having a fling, she couldn’t say she’d brought him home because she’d wanted to, because he was different.
Besides, Adam had clearly gotten bored with talking, because his hand came up, wrapped itself in her hair to pull her head down into another of his deep, amazing kisses. Just as she was surrendering, she remembered what Juliet had said: “You are head-over-heels, girl.”
I’m not, she thought. I’m not at all.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
FRESH FROM A SHOWER, Alicia wandered naked from the tiny bathroom in the sleep-out over to the bed where her clothes lay. The angle of the early morning sun was such that she glimpsed her faint reflection in the sliding door and she stopped short to see more closely.
She had not looked at herself naked and full-length in a mirror for some years. Shame at the flabbiness of a once-trim figure, shame at the aging of a once-young body, shame at all the self-abuse, had prevented her. Now Alicia examined her wavering self with a not-unfriendly eye. Her body was gaining tone again. Of c
ourse, it would never be the same as twenty years earlier, but it was certainly an improvement on this time last year. Her long walks and hours in the garden were paying off. As, no doubt, she thought wryly, were her nights of abstinence. Gravity was certainly having its way, but, she thought, hands on hips, not bad at all for fifty-one.
For a fleeting second she had a recollection of sex, hot bodies twined in the sheets.
With a shake of her head, she turned briskly to the bed and began pulling on her clothes—jeans that were now too loose, and a T-shirt, followed by a shapeless sweatshirt. Men her age were interested in women at least ten-, if not fifteen-, years younger. Besides, she’d learned long ago that she was a complete disaster when it came to relationships. If anything sent her straight back to the margaritas, it would be a close encounter of the male kind. She was so much better off without that to complicate her life.
She did miss sex, though. More so since she’d given up drinking. But now, she told herself, at least she had gardening and her blog. Not great, but a good start for a future she was reclaiming with every day she remained alcohol-free.
The air was cold as she stepped outside and into her waiting gum boots. The morning was gray and misty, the grass wet, the harbor waters a sheath of beaten silver below the gray clouds. Alicia glanced over to the house and saw through the French doors the far gleam of the kitchen light. Adam was up. He’d be gone in a few days, returning all too soon to Texas. These past few days since their revelations had been so good, had set them on a new path and it hurt to think that he had to leave just as they’d reestablished their relationship. Letting go was never easy for a mother.
She went into the garage for the spade and then walked over to the magnificent magnolia behind her sleep-out, planning to dig a flower bed around it. Who had planted this lovely tree? she wondered, as she blew on her fingers and rubbed her hands together to get the blood going. What generosity of spirit to plant a tree one might never see in its full glory.
“Whatcha up to?”
Alicia spun around. “Cressa! What are you doing up this early?”
Cressa grinned. “I know! It’s obscene. But after Adam got up, I couldn’t go back to sleep. I saw you from the window and thought I’d give you a hand.”
“I’d be delighted.”
She looked so vital, even as she yawned and stretched, her tight black sweatshirt riding up to show a flash of flat stomach. Cressa was filled with that energized well-being Alicia could vaguely remember from years ago. Sex. Lots of good sex. She hadn’t tied her hair up and it fell like a cloak, oddly medieval in contrast to the combat trousers and boots.
“What’s the plan?”
“I want a flower bed around the tree, so help with digging would be wonderful. The ground is horribly soggy and heavy.”
“Right-o. I’ll get another spade.”
Cressa strode off to the garage. Though she’d just tumbled from bed, she was already filled with purpose. Such a strange mixture. She dressed like a warrior, was direct and decided in manner, yet underneath she was all at sea without compass or direction. She did a good job of bluffing, though. As someone who’d bluffed her way for years, Alicia could spot a fellow pro.
She was glad of the company, however. They dug together, spades biting into the grass to reveal the black clay below.
“How big do you want it?”
Alicia pursed her lips. “Probably out to about here. What do you think?”
Cressa brushed a strand of hair off her face with the back of her wrist and smiled. “That you’re mad. They’re going to bulldoze this whole place.”
“I know.” Alicia looked around at the garden, spangled by the night’s rain. “That’s why we should enjoy it until then. See those daffodils? They’ll be gone in a few weeks, but for now they enrich our lives. As you get older, you know that everything passes eventually.”
“Yeah?” Cressa dug her spade in and stamped hard on it. With a grunt she lifted the load and flicked it sideways. “Well, I prefer things transitory.”
“Why?” Alicia threw her spadeful onto the pile. Yes, she definitely was getting stronger.
Cressa shrugged, her eyes the same misty green as the hills across the harbor. “I guess I just thrive on change.”
Change was the last thing Adam needed. Alicia’s boy needed roots and the love of a steady woman. He’d drifted long enough, between short-term jobs and relationships. Surely he could see that.
Cressa stamped on her spade again, her hair billowing about her, and Alicia felt a shiver of apprehension. This casual young woman was going to break his heart. Yet for all her misgivings, Alicia couldn’t rid herself of the feeling that with some truth and honesty, those two could make their way through to something very special. Time was running short, though.
“Why did you look for a sailing job right now, Cressa? Did you have the need for a way out?”
“Way out? What are you talking about? I got this job, Alicia, because you guys said I should follow my dreams.” There was a sarcastic tinge to her tone.
The old Alicia would have apologized and accepted the answer. This new Alicia, with strong biceps, leaned on the spade and eyed the young woman. “Are you sure? Is the sailing job really following your dreams?”
Cressa threw another huge clod aside and stabbed her spade back into the earth. “Of course. What makes you think it mightn’t be?”
Not a question, but a challenge. Alicia turned back to her own digging, keeping her voice light. “As a recovering alcoholic, I’m an expert on people’s avoidance tactics.”
She saw the quick sidelong glance. There was a pause, then Cressa asked, “So what were you running away from?”
Alicia pursed her lips. “At first I was escaping a bad marriage and impending bankruptcy.” She smiled grimly. “That was in the good years. I drank to forget the past and to cope with the present. Later I drank to drown the realization that my life was the result of my poor decisions, which led to self-recrimination and, finally, self-hatred.”
Cressa had stopped working and was looking at her with a mixture of awe and pity. “Wow.”
Alicia gave a small smile. “Yes, wow.”
Cressa rubbed her hands over the seat of her pants, twisted her hair into a heavy knot at her nape, then began digging again. “So were you, like, you know, a fall-down drunk?”
“No, I could do my job fine until last year. I never passed out in my food or danced drunk on the tables.” She halted. “Alcohol just eroded me from the inside out.”
“Homer Simpson once said—” and Cressa put on a deep Homer voice “’—ah, alcohol. The answer to, and cause of, all life’s problems.’”
Alicia laughed. “That’s so true. I learned all about the paradoxes of alcohol in rehab.”
“Paradoxes?”
“Things like the fact women often drink to lose sexual inhibitions, but alcohol robs them of sexual desire. People drink to forget their worries, but alcohol becomes a worry in itself. You drink to be sociable, then lose friends because you drink….”
“So which camp did you fall into?”
Alicia struggled with one particularly irksome clod. “I drank because I felt my life was going nowhere, and the booze robbed me of the drive to get somewhere else. I functioned just fine at that level.” She added softly, “It just wasn’t the level I wanted to be on.”
“Didn’t you like your job?”
“I loved it. But I stayed in the same place too long.”
She straightened and put her hands at the small of her back, arching to release muscles. “So, that’s my story. What about you?”
She envied the smooth, powerful energy of her companion, who could keep digging without flagging.
“I told you, I’m not escaping, I’m going to something, Alicia. I love traveling, meeting new people, trying out new things. Sailing will give me all that, with stunning locations thrown in, too.”
“Sounds fun, but is it sustainable?”
“You betcha it
’s fun.” Irritation was plain in Cressa’s voice. “It’s exactly what I want. As for sustainable, I have no idea about things long-term, but I’m sure as heck not going to land up locked in some job year after year, living in the same crappy home—” She stopped short. “Sorry, that sounded rude. I didn’t mean it like that.”
Alicia smiled, but the gloves were off. “I know you didn’t, and I’m delighted you don’t want to compromise as I did. However—” her tone became more pointed “—there are many roads other than the one I’ve followed and the wedding you fled. Your mother, for example, has done very well.”
“Mum?” Cressa was surprised. “Hardly! Her life is exactly the sort I want to avoid. Same office, same house, same everything as far back as I can remember. Dad, now, has had the really interesting life, following his passion.”
“Actually, your mother has achieved a lot. As principal, she faces new challenges every year, and every day is different. How can it not be with twelve hundred girls and nearly a hundred staff under her care? In addition, she’s been a wonderful mother—look how close you all are.”
“Only because she’s bossy.”
“Oh, Cressa! You sound just like a teenager. Your mom has to be bossy—a single mother with five daughters.”
Cressa stared at Alicia. “She wasn’t a single mum.”
“Sorry.” Alicia felt guilty. “That slipped out.”
“I’ve got a wonderful father.”
“I know.”
“The best, in fact.”
“I agree.”
“But…?”
A moment of silence followed. Then Alicia asked, “Just how much was he around, Cressa, to do the day-to-day stuff?”
She hesitated. “It’s the nature of his job. Mum’s always pointed that out. Actors have to take work where they can. He’d be around more if he could.”
“Of course he would.” Alicia paused again, but some shared bond pushed her to defend Deirdre. “He wasn’t, though, was he? Your mother is the glue that held you girls together. You should be grateful. After all, family is very important to you, isn’t it.”